Severance: A Journey Through Complex Relationships and Mysteries

It’s a real downer that none of the love triangles in “Severance” seem destined for anything but heartbreak and tragedy. This week revealed that Outie Burt is not only married but possibly a high-ranking figure at Lumon. Despite this, I still root for his Innie to end up with Irving B. And even though Mark is reintegrating, there’s a part of me that wishes he could be with both Helly R. and Gemma, an impossibility that’s setting us up for inevitable sorrow. I’m attempting to brace myself for the emotional rollercoaster ahead.

As we enter the latter half of the season, our “core four” are diving deeper into intricate relationships involving their Innies and Outies. But before we explore those relationships, we need to discuss Milchick. His story isn’t about love but rather the shame and conflict he feels after his performance review. We first see him meticulously arranging paper clips on countless documents. A sad moment follows as he tackles the comment about using “too many big words,” toning down his vocabulary in front of a mirror. The elegant phrase “eradicate childish folly” gradually becomes “grow up,” and ultimately just “grow,” as Milchick self-berates.

This sequence, like many in this episode, is tinged with horror. Milchick is willing to completely transform to fit Lumon’s mold. The request for Milchick to simplify his vocabulary is especially curious, as it taps into the often patronizing microaggression of calling Black men “well-spoken.” Lumon personalizes this to keep Milchick in his place. Other Lumon executives use complex words freely, making the “Big Words” directive feel like a tool to restrain Milchick within his position as a Black man at Lumon. Combined with the Kier blackface paintings, the tension between Milchick’s faith and identity is pushed to a breaking point.

One thing’s clear: Milchick is missing in action, and the refiners are up to mischief in his absence. Early on, Dylan informs everyone about the elevator map Irving left for him in the Break Room. Helly is intent on retrieving it, but Mark derails her plan. He’s convinced that she’s truly Helly, not Helena Eagan, and awkwardly confesses to her about their Outies sharing a moment of intimacy at the ORTBO.

The news leaves Helly stunned, literally sinking to the floor in contemplation. It’s not surprising—imagine someone using your body to sleep with your crush! True to her character, Helly decides to create her own experience by being with Mark on her own terms. Her declaration, “I don’t want her memory. I want my own,” is empowering. Helly is determined to pursue what she desires, carrying over her assertive, Veruca Salt-like energy from her Outie but in an endearing, lively manner. Mark and Helly’s relatively new Innies behave like teenagers, their budding feelings resembling young love. Creator Dan Erickson has mentioned that season one introduced Innies as children, with season two acting as their adolescence—a theme echoed in Mark and Helly’s “first love.”

Unlike the ominous ORTBO encounter between Helena and Mark, Helly and Mark’s office tryst is tender and innocent. Director Uta Briesewitz highlights the sweetness between them. Both Innies, though emotionally naive about intimacy, naturally respond to each other. Mark leads gently, seeking Helly’s consent as he touches her. Instead of focusing on the physical, Briesewitz emphasizes Helly’s emotions. This scene conveys that while sex engages the body, adding genuine emotion and love transforms the experience. This makes an Innie experience at a waffle orgy vastly different from what unfolds between Mark and Helly in an empty office.

After their intimate moment, Helly asks if it felt different with her. Mark seals the question with a kiss, but it’s cut short as his nose begins to bleed. They find Miss Huang, who is notably wary of this ailment. A quick note on Miss Huang: She’s revealed to be on the severed floor as part of a mysterious fellowship—highly reminiscent of Scientology vibes. Though she hasn’t done much but linger ominously, we hope for a greater role for her character soon.

Meanwhile, Innie Dylan shares a moment with his Outie’s wife. Gretchen steals kisses from her husband’s body—a scandalous act! Later, dining with their three children, we spot a “Dispatcher of the Month” plaque awarded to Gretchen, implying she’s in law enforcement. This might explain Dylan’s perk obsession; he desires recognition, just like his wife. Gretchen lies about family visitation being canceled, possibly in retaliation for Dylan’s insistence on buying a new car, or perhaps something deeper is at play.

Elsewhere, another woman exploits severance’s inherent oblivion. Helena tails Mark to a Chinese restaurant. Finishing a massive meal due to his reintegration process, Helena arrives, heralded by red neon lights.

Helena and Mark—two Outies meeting in a booth. Mark doesn’t know Helena beyond her being the Lumon heir, but she knows him intimately and implies it, even mentioning “Hannah”—aka Gemma. Despite the creepy motives—following Mark to chat—Mark plays along and appears to enjoy it briefly. Strangely, their exchange echoes the playful banter Mark and Helly shared about coupons. Do they share a genuine chemistry?

Does Mark sense Helena is Helly? As they part, Mark’s prolonged stare suggests his reintegration is working. He retreats to his car, hightailing away, leaving a broken neon sign spelling “FU” behind.

At home, Mark tells Reghabi he’s ready to intensify his reintegration process. It sounds hazardous, and his experiences cast doubt on its safety. We’ve witnessed his Innie slipping between realities, indicating progress. For the first time, Reghabi inquires about the enigmatic elevator hallway—this season’s central curiosity. Why is she intrigued? Will we finally uncover its secrets soon? Fingers crossed!

In a grisly sequence, Reghabi reveals a sizable gap left by the severance procedure as she makes adjustments in Mark’s skull, flooding the chip with a large needle. The imagery is viscerally gory, reminiscent of the new credit sequence’s final scene where Innie Mark peers from Outie Mark’s brain. “Severance” hints Mark S. may soon achieve freedom.

There’s a new challenge as Devon checks on Mark during “corporate espionage.” Ever the diligent sister, she’s brainstorming ways to extract more intel from Lumon, specifically mentioning Gabrielle Arteta, the presumably severed pregnant woman from season one. Mark, however, preemptively cuts her off, focusing on his own strategy as it takes effect. Before suffering a seizure, Mark’s realities clash; he glimpses Gemma, who morphs between her Ms. Casey attire and a purple sweater—similar to Gretchen’s lilac one—suggesting his brain’s hemispheres are beginning to communicate.

Mark is likely to survive, his tangled romantic entanglements in disarray as Mark S. finds his footing in this new world. The episode’s love and connection theme extends to Burt and Irving. I’ve said it before, and I’ll repeat it: sparks fly between these two. But caution is advised after revelations about Burt this episode.

Irving nervously arrives at Burt’s for dinner, fussing with his mustache as one might imagine Burt fussed with his hair before their first meeting. Bringing requested red wine, he meets Burt’s husband, Fields, who struggles to maintain composure. Burt reveals he joined severance through divine inspiration. His religious inclinations aren’t shocking, given his severed devotion to Kier. His motivation for severance has a sweet twist—Burt and Fields believe Burt won’t achieve heaven (due to past misdeeds), but Innie Burt might have a chance. Their pastor considers Innies complete beings with souls, and Fields adds they deserve love.

“Severance” thrives on dialogue, and this dinner scene relies on conversation for heavy exposition. Burt and a tipsy Fields divulge significant information in a short time frame, offering a glimpse beyond Lumon’s confines and illustrating the obstacles they’ve overcome—physical ones like Burt’s confrontation with red paint and emotional ones—post-severance. Irving, mostly quiet during dinner, watches Burt affectionately, reciprocating tender glances. Fields hopes Burt’s Innie finds him in the afterlife, yet their exchanged looks suggest a different narrative. If Innies possess souls and an afterlife exists, Burt and Irving’s Innies will surely find each other.

This could be romantic (apologies, Fields), but complications loom: Burt seems more entangled with Lumon than anticipated. It’s casually remarked by Fields that Burt’s tenure at Lumon surpasses the public advent of severance by eight years. While Fields could be drunkenly wrong, it’s suspicious that Mr. Drummond (Frolic’s hand) intrudes into Irving’s house to rifle through his secret stash of Lumon documents, precisely when he’s dining with Burt. Did he know Irving wouldn’t be home? Furthermore, Walken’s expression shifts ominously as he bids Irving goodbye, evoking a mob boss scrutinizing a target. What’s the meaning behind that look? To quote Dylan G.: Is he a dick?

I must make my exit, heading for the elevator. Until next time…

Severed Sentiments

• The closing credits feature Ella Fitzgerald’s “Sunshine of Your Love,” perfectly chosen. While Theodore Shapiro’s stellar score is often praised, music supervisor George Drakoulias deserves recognition for consistently selecting emotionally impactful tracks.

• I would give anything to see the fortune in Mark’s fortune cookie!

• Fields’ comment on unprotected sex seems to foreshadow Helena’s potential pregnancy. With no condoms available on the severed floor and Helly/Helena sharing moments with Mark twice in quick succession, was it timed with her cycle?

• Should Drummond harm Radar, Kier help him, I’ll find him.

• I am not well-versed enough on Attila the Hun to interpret Burt and Fields’ pet names for each other, so feel free to share theories in the comments.

• Cobel Watch: We’ve been deprived of our favorite chaotic lactation fraudster for three episodes. Where could she be?